


Lifetimes of choices

by alectrona



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Reincarnation, Sehun/Suho is a very minor pairing!, Side character!Vernon & Wonwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alectrona/pseuds/alectrona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I've shared many lifetimes with you - and in each, I have always loved you dearly.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes : **  
> \- I haven’t done and am not too familiar with reincarnation!aus before, so beforehand, I’m really sorry if my rendition of reincarnation is not too conflicting for you!  
> \- Also for practicality, throughout reincarnations, the characters still retain their names albeit with different personalities and lives.  
> \- This is a **Create Your Own Adventure** styled fic! So, **please click on the actions you want them to take instead of clicking next chapter**!
> 
> [Cross-posted](http://winnerexchange.livejournal.com/18449.html) from [](http://winnerexchange.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://winnerexchange.livejournal.com/)**winnerexchange** written for lovely Cleo! (check the community since it has a **_lot_** of high-quality Winner fics!)

  
-  
\--  
\---

“Do I know you?”

It came as a surprise for me to see you appear in front of me, your long and slender fingers tightly gripping a cup of iced vanilla latte. Over many lifetimes, I had objected your beverage of choice – especially on rainy days like this.

I put my sketchbook to rest as I gather words to construct an appropriate response to your seemingly simple question.

Yes, I do know you. I know you and you had taught me how to play the guitar that one time. We embarked on countless road trips as frugal musicians trying to make ends meet. You wrote me so many songs: those that speak of ardent love and dreary despair. We had spent the night by the beach and skinny-dipped in the dark. You poured me stories of resilience you had never shared with anyone before. Of course I know you.

Yes, I do know you. I know you and we held hands as we walked in the central park after office hours. The blood orange sky had always been your favorite, and I had always resolutely argued that the purplish orange sky of dawn is more beautiful. We had always dined in Tony’s, a cozy Italian where white collar workers alike savor the legendary gnocchi made fresh by the order. Of course I know you.

Yes, I do know you. In fact, we had grown old together. It still baffles me how I have managed to survive 43 years, 35 years, and 65 years together with you and your tireless nagging. In our twilight days we had watched the sun set in the Venice horizons, went to the Vienna Philharmonic, and watched our grandchildren run over the hills of Jeju. I wrote you an eulogy twice – and you have scattered my ashes once.

Carefully selecting my words, I replied:

_“Really?”_

Through sour conversations and sleepless nights full of heated debates, I have learned the hard way to never disclose nor imply that I have known – and loved – you before.

“Uh, I am not so sure myself. It’s just that your face looks very familiar to me. Perhaps we’ve shared same classes before.”

“Possibly! I took calculus classes too – owned that textbook before. It was quite a hard one, but proved to be very handy in later classes.”

“Oh, is that so? That means I really need to start attending classes from now on-”  
you see, my weakness has always been your pouty lips,  
“-or else I might never graduate from here. Thanks for the heads-up! My name is Kang Seungyoon, by the way.”

“No worries. I’m Mino, nice meeting you!”

\--

As the music gets louder, the pull to slide into samba moves is getting more intense. Having made peace with myself in acknowledging that I am no good of a dancer, I have chosen to stay put and enjoy the Caipirinha cocktail instead.

That is until I saw you, rocking those samba steps and catching everyone’s attention. I didn’t expect to meet you here – although I have no complaints, as you look bedazzling donning that plain white shirt with the top four buttons daringly undone, dancing under the dim yellow light. Truly a women magnet, as a handful of girls left their dates just to be a step closer with you, their hungry eyes telling so much about their intentions. I smirked at the view and in a very dashing manner, you caught it and winked at me from afar.

How cheeky.

This is not the first time you blatantly flirted on me – I remember like it was yesterday how you recommended me a book in the bookstore you were working at and slipped a handwritten cute banter in the middle of the book on check-out. We had a lot of fun in that bookstore (and I must say, ahem, even _more_ good times in the warehouse) all the while my parents thought I was just being a very diligent student.

I have proven that you’re not the only one capable of making the first move, though. I wish you could remember how smooth I was in that train ride from Bangkok to Siem Reap. Angkor Wat was nothing short of amazing, but having a Lara Croft wannabe running around as if chased by vicious treasure hunters as a travel companion boosted it to be one of my most prized trips over my lifetimes.

You are also sweet as you are cheeky. I have never felt more at peace compared to when we took a morning stroll in the Peak District: the rays of sunshine peeking through the heavy morning mist sending warm kisses to our skin, your assurance of always being by my side as you steadfastly hold me in your arms and softly speak your sweetest words thus far: “I love you and I wish to never be parted with you, even when the sun dies and the planets collide.” Dearest, if only you knew that the heavens had so kindly granted your wish. We will never part.

The thunderous claps brought me back to the patio in Rio de Janeiro. As they subside, you walked into my direction with a glass of Caipirinha in your hand and said,

“Indeed this cocktail is too good to be missed. Not even a highly attractive, skillful dancer can separate you from a glass of this, eh?”

“Well, I’d prefer my samba classes to be private, thank you very much.”

“I’m Seunghoon, and starting from about five seconds ago, I teach private samba classes.”

“I’m Mino. When do we start?”

 

\---  
\--  
-

 

Winter in Seoul can sometimes be jarringly cold (remember those days during King Sejong’s reign when we had to burn a truckload of firewood just to survive) and this year’s is no exception. I have successfully reached the Caffe Bene Myeongdong after enduring the biting winds and spent about two hotpacks en route.

Work doesn’t start until 45 minutes and today is one of those screw-my-diet days, so I’m ordering a devilish hazelnut mocha latte and triple chocolate mousse. Every now and then you need to order the most fattening menu possible just as an act of protest to the gods for their umpteenth rejections for asking a naturally skinny body coded in your DNA.

My rebelliousness didn’t just stop at the latte and mousse – I sat at the table and used not one, but _two_ electrical plugs for my iPad and phone because I’m one of those plugs-hungry millennial assholes. If that’s not enough douchebaggery under one sitting, I’m using the 45 minutes window to download the latest episode of House of Cards _and_ Game of Thrones and use up the café’s bandwidth so that other customers would have had their coffee cold before their Facebook page got loaded.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I use this plug? I notice you’ve been using two.”  
This assertiveness and straightforwardness, could it be –  
“I really need one for work.”

And just as I expected, it’s Seunghoon. Really, gods? It took you guys 25 years, two full-time jobs, and three pet cats of interlude to finally introduce me to one of my potential love interests?

“Uh, yeah sure.”

“Thanks. And by the way, the latest episode is really cool, Kevin Spacey is a brilliant actor, but I hope you are more sensible than using up a café’s bandwidth for your own entertainment.”

And just like that, I’m certain this lifetime’s Seunghoon is an assertive little poop that I will swoon over.

“Yeah, man. Chill.”

He gave me a sharp gaze and snorted. Afterwards, he opened his MacBook and started working. My guess is that he’s a graphic designer here. I think I could live with a hot, assertive graphic designer alright.

Just as he changed the color of the paintbrush, the café door swung open and a store clerk came rushing in.

“Hi there, Wonwoo! The usual please.” The clerk flashed a bright smile and proceeded to wipe his round glasses from melting snowflakes.

“Are you sure you want an iced vanilla latte? It’s quite cold outside.”

_Ah._ Today must have been my lucky day. My two love interests in one sitting. Being rebellious has its kick.

“You know me, Wonwoo. Did you get to read the book I gave you?”

“It’s on my reading queue! I’m still finishing the rest of the books we bought in an episode of frantic buying from the midnight sale last month. Here you go. One iced vanilla latte and one free chocolate chip cookie for you!”

Dear gods, if you’re listening to me, please include that barista in the eligible potential love interest for another lifetime – _have you seen his smile?_ Unbelievable.

“Thanks, man. You’re the best.”

Seungyoon sat himself at the table next to me and dived into the world wide web on his phone. Seeing the two of them from an arm’s length away, I am grateful that I have an infinite amount of time in a cyclical loop to spend with them, no matter whom I choose to be with.

My lives have always been lifetimes of choices: how I’ll navigate myself, what work I will lead myself to, who I want to end up with, what goal I am destined to fulfill in this lifetime. Through various combinations and permutations in life, I realized that one droplet of decision has the power to create a ripple large enough to last a lifetime. Those decisions are made both consciously or unconsciously – voluntarily or involuntarily. Most of the times we are not able to determine what resides under our control.

Luckily, I am able to control these following decisions: [to take the packets of sugar in front of Seungyoon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166345), or [to go with a smart comeback responding to Seunghoon’s assertion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166342).


	2. ii.2

  
<[ _Luckily, I am able to control these following decisions: ... to go with a smart comeback responding to Seunghoon’s assertion._](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166354)>

  
  


Lightly tapping his shoulders, I said, “hey, about earlier, sorry if I was an ass.”

“Yeah? Don’t worry, I’ve done it too – well actually, I did worse. I downloaded all episodes of Signal. Nobody bat an eye that time but in my visit the week after, I learned that the café shuts down its Wi-Fi entirely and I lost a place to work. Not wanting to lose this one, too.”

“Ah, I see. So it was more of a selfish reason rather than a public service.”

“Well, two birds with one stone. Not too bad, eh?”

“Not too bad indeed. Frank Underwood would approve.”

“Detective Lee Jaehan wouldn’t.”

“He wouldn’t indeed. Anyways, I’m Mino. Nice meeting you.”

“Seunghoon. Nice meeting you.”

\--

Seunghoon and I lived nomadically but loved passionately. With him, I am home. My lives have always been unpredictable – for all I know I could be a monkey in my next lifetime, who knows? – but the assurance of his presence has always pacified me.

It was autumn, seven years into our relationship. The yellowing ginkgo leaves are aplenty, making the streets of Kyoto look like they are covered in a glistening carpet of gold. Seunghoon had retold me over and over again about the wonders of Kyoto: how he visited it once briefly during his high school field trip and how he had always wanted to go back. He would mention names of exotic shrines, tranquil gardens, and appetizing tsukemono. I would usually just smile at his passionate and endless fascination of the quaint city – I myself, fascinated by him.

So, when Seunghoon managed to win a contract for a promotional artwork project with Nintendo, we didn’t think twice. I quit my job and we moved to Kyoto the next month, and despite our one too many ramen cups and depleting bank accounts, we had a swell time.

“I’m really sorry that I didn’t secure the second Nintendo project. I think I didn’t do good enough,” Seunghoon said one particular afternoon in our tiny studio apartment in suburban Kyoto. He was cooking some dish (a mixture of whatever was remaining in our fridge) which smelled thick of gochujang.

“Hey, what’s the next level after I finish this boss stage?” I was too fixated on this new Super Mario Bros game Seunghoon has managed to obtain from his previous project – can you believe that for once Princess Peach doesn’t need to be saved?

“Song Mino. I’m being serious here,” he said as he stopped stirring the pot and turned into my direction. “I didn’t win the Nintendo project.”

“It’s okay, we’ll get another.”

“Alright then.”

Minutes passed and I still haven’t killed off Donkey Kong. Whatever Seunghoon’s making it had better be good for I’m starving and he is taking longer than usual. I liked his rendition of chicken teriyaki best, - not too sweet and the chicken is always tender. During austere months we manage to survive with homemade onigiri which consists of ninety-five percent rice, three percent laver, and two percent canned tuna. Thinking of these _really_ makes me hungry.

“Hey, Seungho-”  
“Shit!”

Everything happened in a flash and next thing I knew the fire alarm went on, the pot got thrown to the cabinet next to the stove, its red content splashed to the ivory wall, microwave and the wooden tabletop, and for a split second, there was a huge flash of fire from the stove, leaving a bold black mark on the wall.

“What the fuck, Seunghoon are you alright?! What happened? We should get you cleaned up, let me help you. Are you alright?” my heart skipped a beat – and I think I’ve broken the game console I just threw to the floor.

“I’m… I’m really sorry for all the mess. I’ll clean it up later. Thanks Mino.”

I tried to run up to him before he locked himself in the bathroom, but he proved again that he’s the better sportsman. I swear I saw a stream of tears running down his cheek; never in our seven years of relationship have I seen him cry, not even when we were on the verge of breaking up, or when he broke his right arm in a skateboarding accident. He was only teary eyed when Leehee died, which afterwards he quickly went to the bathroom and washed his face, took a shovel and buried her in our backyard with his own hand.

I lightly knocked on the door twice and dearly called his name, before he answered, “I’m okay. Just give me five minutes? We need to call the plumber again because this sink is plugged for the second time this month. Perhaps you should call Mario and Luigi over.”

I hate how he’s still trying to make me laugh even when he can’t hide the shakiness of his voice.

“I will be outside, okay? I will come back in five. I’ll try to call Mario if Donkey Kong didn’t kidnap me first.”

He gave a faint chuckle as I step away to the front door. Luckily all the neighbors were out (probably enjoying the nice autumn day, unlike us miserable people) so there was no unnecessary questioning nor complaints filed. There is a potential police inquiry over our kitchen incident in which I’m prepared to say _yes, sir, I am sorry, we were trying to cook a soup._ Or perhaps _the stove was out of control._ Or going the rebellious route of _sorry, officer, it was just a weird kink of ours. Want to join the fun?_

“Mino?”

A familiar voice greeted me once I stepped out of the building to turn off the alarm panel.

“Jun- _myeon_? Wow, man! What are the odds! What are you doing here? We meet at last!” It was Junmyeon, all in his perfect smile glory.

“Astronomical indeed! It’s good seeing a familiar face once more. How have you been? What and who are you now? Hopefully better than the last time we met as a high school transfer student in the States. Was such a great time but I ended up being a shitty car salesman. Wow, it’s so good to see you!”

“Okay, Junmyeon, chill with the questions.”

Junmyeon here is also a Recaller. There isn’t too many of us, and he is one of the closest friends I know – well I suppose you would be, if you went through many lives together. At times we’re best buddies but in other times, he’s truly a cunning little fucker.

We shared a laugh, in which after I replied, “I’m okay, I guess. You tell me! Looking fine and young, eh? How old are you now? Are you an heir for a rich Korean conglomerate or something? Look at these Burberry and Ralph Lauren!”

“I’m doing incredibly fine in this one. I’m 20 years old now, on a vacation with my friends. I’m in the entertainment industry now.”

It is universal policy that you don’t get to win over Junmyeon a lot in terms of successes no matter how many chances or lives you are given.

“Fancy! An aspiring intern? Cameraman prodigy? Award-worthy scriptwriter?”

“ _Actually_ , a boygroup member.”

Laughing out loud at his response – how could he possibly be in a boy group? Last time I was in a club with him he totally was the joke of the dancefloor. Rubbing my eyes from the tears of my laughter, I responded, “Now that’s a good one. You got me right there. Practiced your straight face hard, haven’t you?”

“No, dumbass. I really _am_ preparing to be a boygroup member.”

“No shit! How did it happen, really?”

“I’m being serious! There is this company back in Seoul that called me for an audition a couple of years ago. Not sure how it will turn out, but I hope it will be good. I heard I’m going to debut as a member of a twelve-member boy group. Don’t spread it out, though, it’s still in the development phase. Pretty exciting time. Enough about me, how about you?”

_Well, nothing much, just planning out on kinky answers to tease police officers and potentially got jailed for it._ “I’m assisting my partner in his graphic design venture. We live here in Kyoto.”

“Always busy with your love stories, aren’t you? Aw, you’re a lucky man, Mino. Love is the single most valuable thing to receive in a lifetime. We learned it the hard way, didn’t we?”

“The hard way it was. I’ve never seen you as sad and disappointed as when Sehun left you then. No amount of money compensates the loss of a loved one, I guess.”

“Indeed. Money is finite – love, on the other hand, is infinite. You’re the richer man. Anyways, I have to go now; my friend’s waiting for me. Nice to see you! Meet you around, Mino!” And just like that, Junmyeon stormed into the crowded complex of Kyoto’s suburban area.

I used to think that love is finite and its borders clear – Seunghoon has clearly taught me that it isn’t, as he kept pushing that border further and further away.

Once back to our small apartment, I closed in my ear onto the bathroom door and I could still hear Seunghoon’s sobbing clearly. It pains you to hear the person that means the world to you having their own world crumbling down like this. Gently knocking on the door, I called for him,

“Hey there. Can I come in?”

Silence.

“Seunghoon, can you please let me in? I brought you some takoyaki and brewed you a hot green tea. They are too appetizing to be missed!”

Still silence.

“Seunghoon, I love you. You know that. Would you please let me in?”

It was yet another silence for ten good seconds before I heard footsteps marching near and the lock clicked open.

“Hey,” he said, very softly and brief. I stood there with a wide smile with my left hand bringing the plastic box filled with takoyaki and my right hand the freshly-brewed green tea. I looked like a clichéd character from a fast-food TV advertisement.

“They say eating in front of the bathroom increases your appetite by the tenfold, do you know that?” he asked while I prepare the takoyaki on the floor in front of the bathroom. He sat on the bathroom floor and I on the corridor.

“Says who?”

“Says Professor Dekisugi from Kyoto Open University.”

“Huh? I’ve never heard of Kyoto Open University.”

“There isn’t one, and Dekisugi is a character from Doraemon, but you would have believed it because you’d trust me anyways,” he said while I fed him with the first bite of takoyaki to his open mouth.

“Ah, you know me too well.”

We finished the takoyaki a minute later despite the fact that I bought two large portions of octopus and beef takoyaki. We were famished, mind you. We ate in silence and only sounds of water drops from the bathtub accompanied our quick lunch. After a full tummy, I rose from my seat and went to the bathtub.

“What are you doing?”

“I feel like having a warm water bath. Join me?”

We spent the next ten minutes in silence as we waited for the tub to fill. Our kitchen (well, our entire apartment) looked like a mess so I don’t bother to pick up the takoyaki box to the bin.

“Okay, time to plunge in! Strip down!”

“You know, Mino, it sounds so wrong.”

“If you’re not stripping yourself down, I’m going to strip it for you and you wouldn’t want it to happen, would you?”

He grumbled as he lifted his t-shirt up (the remnants of his glorious abs shy under the cute belly fat – “they’re _not_ cute!” he said) and his shorts, and dipped in the tub.

“You’re not unclothing?”

“Well I’m not joining, this is for you.”

“That’s cheating!”

“I know you need it, Seunghoon,” I smiled at him and kissed his forehead. He might come off as strong, assertive, and intimidating at first, but over the years as he stripped down layers of layers of his façade you will see someone who, really, just needs loving for his incessant insecurities.

I sat on the bathroom floor and helped wash his back, face, and hair. He duly followed my movements and adjusted his head to my massaging. He closed his eyes, and in that fifteen minutes bath, we shared a moment of peace unmatched even by Kyoto’s famed autumn parks.

“I’m really sorry that I didn’t get the Nintendo deal,” he said, looking directly at my eyes and breaking the silence.

“I’ve told you that it’s okay. We’ll get another one. Don’t worry,” there was foam on his eyelids and I washed it off, my fingers brushed his wet eyelashes.

“But we only have so much in the bank – minus whatever yen you’ve spent for the takoyaki.”

“We’ve been through it, Seunghoon. We will get over this again, together.”

He didn’t respond to my last sentence. Instead, he played with the water as if he’s a five years old kid enjoying a bath. His lips curled down a little, and although he’s still very cute, it’s obviously not a good sign of his emotional state.

“I really am sorry that I brought you all the way here to Kyoto, away from the familiarity and comfort Seoul offers. It was very selfish of me. I am really sorry. If only I could turn back time, I would not dare to think of moving here-”

“And if I could, I would gladly repeat whatever we’ve had. They are not perfect, but they made us who we are today. If my love for you is this strong today, it is only because we’ve been through so much and we’ve managed to stand together amidst the unrelenting waves of problems.”

I took his hand and intertwined it dearly with mine. He blushed a little at this and directed his gaze away from me.

“And my love is _that_ strong for you.”

He still didn’t look at my way but I could feel in my hand that he’s trembling. Being the masculine man that he is, he always wants to provide strength for me and be my rock, my bed that heals. He doesn’t want to look weak in front of anyone, moreover in front of me. These things he never said, but a careful observation every day for seven years would reveal. But alas, aren’t we all humans?  Like us, he has breakdowns of his own and moments where he simply cannot rely on himself. Some moments, like this one, he needs a rock of his own. It will be left unsaid and he would never ask – but I will always be there.

“I’m sorry I’ve failed you.”

“Lee Seunghoon. You didn’t fail me, neither did you fail anyone else and most importantly you didn’t fail yourself. How we’re living right now is not ideal, and if someone offers a place in Gion where I can live and supply me with a truckload of money I wouldn’t object – but for all I care I could have all the money in the world but if I don’t have you to share it with I wouldn’t be happy. I love you for not what you can give me – I love you for who you are when you are with me and who I am when I am with you. I love you whole – your imperfections, your annoyingness, your mood swings, your stubbornness, you.”

He finally looked at me, his eyes puffy and red.

“Lee Seunghoon, will you marry me?” in a spur of the moment, I popped the question. To be brutally honest with you, I also have no idea why I decided to do so.

He burst into laughter and said, “are you seriously proposing to me while I’m naked in a bathtub?”

“Well, have you even seen yourself naked? If else it’s all the more reason to marry you.”

“Shut up. And, yes, silly. Of course I will.” He leaned to me and we shared a kiss. His wet eyelashes met mine, my hand on his nape, the foam on his shoulder brushed my dry shirt. It was a wet kiss – the uncomfortable, it’s-on-a-damn-bathtub kind of uncomfortable wet kiss.

I’ve proposed to him and he has proposed to me in many different occasions – but now I could add to the portfolio: Lee Seunghoon and I are engaged in a bathtub and bathroom floor next to an empty takoyaki box, inside a shabby apartment in Kyoto with red stains of gochujang and flame on the wall and broken game console on the floor. It was as beautiful for amidst all the imperfections, we are still next to each other, improving and embracing, together.

 

_\---_  
_\--_  
_-_

 

I’ve always hated the administrative work of copying, printing, and binding official documents. It’s a painstakingly inefficient job with little chance of breakthrough innovation as you have to wait for the 500-page document to get printed before you can do anything about it. These middle-aged politicians are too lazy to learn how to productively use an iPad aside from playing Cut the Rope and Angry Birds (for crying out loud, this is 2016) during Assembly sessions.

“Hey, Song Mino. Congressman Kang sent this for you,” Vernon said. I pity the guy for being too cute – the National Assembly is a place with no mercy if you’re a cute intern. The work will keep coming in because these politicians remember you, but you’re too cute to be taken seriously. Eventually the kind of works you will receive are a) making coffees; b) passing memos to people; c) welcoming and keeping the wives and kids entertained as the dads still have some work to do. Cute guys like him would never get to edit, moreover draft, a bill.

“Thanks, Vernon. How many copies does he need?”

“Just one, I think. He needs it before the Socha meeting this afternoon, so I think you have to make it a priority. Now if you can excuse me I have five coffees to deliver. Lunch together, later?” You have to give this guy an award for his ability to balance five coffees, two copies of the draft bills and a memo, all while dashing swiftly and still maintaining a positive outlook of his career.

Unlike Vernon, I’m not an intern to the floor and shared by fifty congressmen. I am attached and report to one congressman, giving me more exposure to the actual policy-making – and actual politics – behind the many copying jobs. Congressman Kang, my boss, is a young representative from Daegu and is affiliated to the government party, the Socha. He is a man with ambitions. Beside the occasional printing and binding, I also aid him with crafting negotiation briefings. Once I do my job well enough, I will be appointed permanent staff and my own political journey would begin.

_Beep beep._ A text message arrived:

                _Meet at usual place 9 pm. Room # is first meeting._

Here we go.

_\--_

The elevator chimed “eleventh floor” and I stepped out, looking for room #1112 – December eleventh. He would often change the date: my birthday, his birthday, our first meeting date, the birthday of the president, the premiere date of a movie, et cetera. Once I almost knocked and entered the wrong room because I wasn’t sure what date the group Winner’s anniversary is (Google provided three different dates, I was so confused).

I knocked the door three times each with an interval of one second as per our agreement and waited. I heard footsteps closing in and about five seconds later, the door opened and Congressman Lee stood uprightly on the center.

“Hi. Come in.”

“Hi, good evening, congressman.”

“Scotch? Bourbon? Beer?” he said, striding across the room. This boutique hotel only offers one type of room which is as big as other hotel’s suite – explaining why the Congressman chose this specific hotel for our rendezvous. He doesn’t have to worry about landing in a mediocre deluxe room, he will always be served in a spacious room with a minibar that isn’t just some packs of sad salted peanuts and diet cokes, but an actual bar with an array of alcoholic drinks.  
“I can do a glass of bourbon, sir. How about you? I’ll have it ready. Please, just sit down.”

“Scotch, please. Thank you, Mino.”

In the business of politics, one _judges_ the book by its cover. Appearance matters. This is among the first lessons the Congressman has taught me. _Dress to impress, dress to success,_ he said. At 35 years young, his good looks and poise charmed younger voters, identifying with him more than with the commonly middle-aged congressmen. It’s not only how he looks, but also how he brings about himself. He speaks very eloquently with a dignified articulation. They are not over the top, nor are they superficial and forced. Truly a man fit for the job of persuasion, negotiation, and sometimes, deception.

“Thank you.  Now, sit here and let’s talk. How have you been, Mino?”

“I’m good, sir, thank you for asking. Still a lot of room for learning. Congressman Kang has been quite occupied lately with drafting the sanitation bill, and as always, I’m providing him support.”

“I see. What kind of support are you providing him?” I can sense a hint of suggestiveness in that last rhetorical question.

“Sir, as you know, it is nothing like the support I’ve provided for you the past four months,” I shyly sipped my bourbon and smirked. I know he’s weakest to my smirk.

In sudden movements, he brought himself closer to my direction, our face just centimeters apart, his breaths reek of scotch, and his gaze piercing my shy eyes. I can hear his steady and calm breaths.

“Now, now, you wouldn’t want to provide such support to other men, would you?”

No matter how hard I try to keep my composure, my pulse just went erratic and my breathing fast. His right arm, covered in sleek, black Armani suit, firmly gripping the cream-colored sofa and his long legs crossed. His face kept closing into mine, and as the tip of our noses nearly brushed, he slowly tilted his head and slightly parted his lips. I started closing my eyes when he abruptly stood up.

“Well, a meal is never satisfying without a plate of appetizer before the mains. Now, tell me, Mino, is Kang Seungyoon running for Speakership?” he said as he opened his blazer and placed it in the other sofa. He restlessly walked across the room, rolling his sleeves and putting his hand inside his pockets. He’s a manipulative jerk like this sometimes, cockblocking his own moves.

“Yes, sir, he’s aiming for the Speakership in the Assembly. He has advanced his talks with a lot of committee leaders in the Socha party, and he’s scheduled to meet the smaller Liberal party and independent congressmen. With your Maega party, however, I’m not so sure what his plans are, sir.”

Although I’ve been with the Congressman for well over four months, I am still keeping my honorifics – at his request. Such honorifics create a power play between us, asserting his dominance and ensuring my obedience.

“Interesting. Do you think he’ll succeed?”

“Truthfully sir, I think he will. With all due respect to your party, the Socha party is the majority, if the party agrees to vote for him, he will secure the Speaker position. Plus, his political capital is strengthening with the progress of the sanitation bill he’s leading.”

“Well that’s bad news for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, I believe so.”

“Then I have to ensure he’s not receiving those votes to be a Speaker myself, don’t I?”

“Yes, sir, that is correct.”

“Now, I would need support for that. Your support. Can I count you on that?”

“Sir, as I’ve demonstrated the past four months, you certainly can, without a shadow of a doubt.”

“Attaboy.”

He strode across the room and sat down on the armchair of the sofa adjacent to mine. Crossing his legs and resting his left arm on his thighs he said, “Now, shall we move to mains?”

\--

“Mino, I can’t stress enough the importance of this meeting. If he can state his public support to the bill, we will have more leverage in pressing other people in the Assembly to vote in favor for the bill. Timing is crucial. I need that support. Do whatever you can to persuade his team.”

“Yes, Congressman Kang. I have been in contact with his team. They seem to have no objection so far. I can assure you this meeting will run smoothly.” How could it not, when the person we’re meeting is Kim Junmyeon, a loyal friend over a hundred lifetimes. Junmyeon seems to be winning in this lifetime again, as he is now the CEO of the second biggest water utilities company in South Korea. In the lifetime before, that twelve-membered boy group of his was highly successful, too. How unfair.

“It better be. It’s only two months away to Speakership voting. Take any measure necessary, even if it has to cost us some under the table deals.”

“Yes, sir. I will.”

We arrived at the glass skyscraper, and were escorted to the top floor where Junmyeon and his staffs were already waiting in the boardroom.

“Congressman! Welcome! We finally meet again after, how long was it? Six months? Always nice to see you. Please, have a seat,” Junmyeon warmly greeted us in his grey suit and still a perfect smile.

“CEO Kim, it’s always my pleasure. This is my team, Song Mino, Shin Jiwon, and Ha Minkyung. They will assist your team if they require any clarifications or questions.” Congressman Kang ordered us to sit near Junmyeon’s team, in case he and Junmyeon need to have a private session. We all shook hands, and when it’s my turn to shook Junmyeon’s, I flashed a large smile and shook his hand quite more strongly than the others’.

The meeting introduction and formalities went for about ten minutes, and afterwards the Congressman and Junmyeon went into separate room. Faced with his team of three, we explored their thoughts and refuted their concerns. It all seemed to be working out fine. Their company would benefit from our sanitation bill as it requires expansion and upgrades of current water treatment facilities resulting in more investment and higher profit for their side. Their only request is for the bill to allow direct appointment of the contractor – in practice, this means that they are implying that they would want to be appointed by the government, enabling them to outcompete their main rival and rise to be Korea’s biggest water company. Not necessarily a clean deal, but what is politics without some under the table agreements.

Forty five minutes later, the Congressman and Junmyeon came back to the boardroom and we wrapped up with another ten minutes of formalities and conclusions. We all laughed and smiled (such a fake façade, I know) like all is well.

“CEO Kim, I must say this meeting has been very fruitful and I believe with your support, this sanitation bill will be successful. Together, we will bring a better future for the people of South Korea. No longer will they live with disparity in public sanitation across regions – and it will be all thanks to you and your continuous effort to improve the country. The country owes a great deal for your commitments.”

“Congressman, when you have the calling for public service, there is no such thing as owing me a great deal. It is all under the spirit for a better country. Thank you for making the time to come.”

All of us proceeded to another round of hand-shaking and thank yous. As I approached Junmyeon for goodbye greetings, I lowered my voice and hushed to him, “hey, Junmyeon. A CEO, huh? Not bad at all. You seem to be winning in lives!”

“Excuse me?” he gave a puzzled look and raised his eyebrows.

“Come on, drop the rigidity. It’s me, Mino!” I laughed while lightly tapping his arm.

“Excuse me, Mister Song, but I believe I had never met you before – and this is getting a bit uncomfortable,” his puzzled look turned into annoyance and he withdrew his hands from mine.

“How can you forget, man! We fought in the Korean War? Shared a room in the American boarding school? Climbed the Kilimanjaro?” if he’s pulling a prank on me, it’s not funny because by this time I can see some gazes from my team and I think, Congressman Kang is looking at us bewilderedly.

“Mister Song, it’s CEO Kim for you – and I certainly don’t recall any of those things with you as I believe you mistook me for someone else. Now if you can excuse me, I have calls to attend to.” He spoke with such coldness in his last sentences that I am starting to believe he really doesn’t recognize me.

“Mino! Come, quick!” Congressman Kang firmly called me from the other end of the table, his voice stern.

Fazed by my bizarre encounter with Junmyeon – or, CEO Kim for now – my mind went blank as we rode the elevator and waited for the car to pick us up. Kim and I have gone through so much together. Even though we were not the best of friends in some lives, but knowing that he’s somewhere in this world, feeling the same experience as I, calmed me.

“What on earth were you thinking earlier? It was a good meeting until you decided to pull that stupid shit at the end of the meeting. Did you forget how I said this is the single most important meeting before the voting on the bill and voting on the Speakership? I simply _cannot_ tolerate your hullabaloo!” served me right, Congressman Kang shouted at me inside the car ride back to the Assembly.

“Yes, sir, I am truly sorry-”

“And how do you think _truly sorry sir_ would help me secure the support? If tomorrow in his live TV interview he didn’t state his support for the bill, you know who’s at fault and you know whose political career ends.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

\--

I thought my heart is going to burst while I impatiently wait for the TV interview to be broadcasted.  I decided to sleep my worries in, with hope they will be gone the day after. It didn’t. I am still at loss how Kim didn’t recognize me – I know his gazes, and yesterday’s was his honest one. This leads to the question: what if one day, you suddenly lost the ability to recall your past lives? What if, one day, _you forget?_

To my content, Kim publicly stated his support for the sanitation bill and spoke greatly about how the bill will help the improvement of the country. The whole team cheered and sighed in relief as this would bring the bill closer to approval.

My phone beeped and a text message arrived:  
                _Not impressed. I thought the support was on me?_

As if Kim wasn’t enough trouble for a day, now I’m faced with two equally dangerous paths: [regain Congressman Kang’s trust and avoid his deliberate political annihilation of me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166348), or [provide unwavering support for Congressman Lee and ruin the bill’s approval lest he launches his _own_ attack on my political career _and_ personal life](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166351);. This time, I’m taking the time to ponder and think deeply of what moves I shall take – for this could be my last chance to be with any of the two.

\--


	3. ii.1

  
_<[Luckily, I am able to control these following decisions: to take the packets of sugar in front of Seungyoon...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166354)>_

“Pardon me for interrupting, but could you pass me that brown sugar, please?”

“Oh, of course. Here you go.”

“Thanks a lot. Do you work in Lotte by any chance? I deduce that from your outfit alone by the way, nothing rocket science or borderline creepy.”

“Why, indeed – as you can see from the gigantic Lotte logo on the back of the shirt, and a smaller version on the front. And if that’s not enough, you can see another in this nametag. This is the more subtle outfit, by the way. We had more aggressive ones with an apron and a bandana.”

“Glad I didn’t have to live through that,” side-note: I did, “I was just wondering whether the Christmas discount is still taking place.”

“It’s still in place, which is why the vicious shoppers – with no offense to you, sir – are still aplenty. It’s really the most tiring time of the year.”

“Great, then, thanks, Mister…”

“Seungyoon,” he said as he brought his nametag closer for my inspection, “of fourth floor, toys and gadgets.”

\--

Our mornings are loud. It usually involves Yuri asking for matching lunchboxes, Hiro busy watching his favorite Thomas & Friends episode, Seungyoon’s endless stream of advice and reminder of how to behave at school, and my inexperienced and ineffective cooking. It will be a startling difference an hour later when the kids are in school and Seungyoon and I take a break for fifteen minutes before resuming to our works.

“Next week is Parents-Teacher Conference. I was thinking to split up – I can go to Yuri’s and you can go to Hiro’s,” Seungyoon said. The tea he just poured gave off a very nice jasmine fragrance. When people say the smell of jasmine can help you relax, I can attest to that.

“I’m good with any. Just tell me later which one I need to go to – although if you give me the freedom to choose, I’d rather go with Yuri’s class. I once went to Hiro’s and the parents were just these young housewives and they won’t stop talking about their diamonds and new handbag collections! It was the most excruciating forty-five minutes of my life.”

Hiro is our younger one. He just turned six this month, making him in Kindergarten B. The conference is actually milder as there will be no discussion on how their academic achievement progresses and onlu the emotional development, but I have to bear with the young housewives who think that a minute of silence is an unatonable sin.

“Okay then, you can go to Yuri’s. I’ll brief you on her latest progress. Shouldn’t you be going to office now?”

“Can I just skip the day off and watch you man the shop and cuddle with you on lunch breaks and nap with you?” I know that my pouty lips can do magic at certain times.

“If I were your boss, I would grant you that and more. But sadly I’m not and your actual boss is going to be mad at you if you don’t head to the office now. Go!” Seungyoon pushed me to the door, gave me a kiss on the cheek (it’s our morning ritual) and waved his hands. Los Angeles morning commute could be unforgiving sometimes, especially if your commute involves going from the busy district of Koreatown to the city center as the bus will be jam-packed.

We moved here a little over ten years ago, when we decided to settle down and get married and do all the boring stuffs married couples do. Our decision to move to Los Angeles wasn’t an easy task – it started as a date night joke thirteen years ago, got heavily scrutinized and discussed for three years, and materialized ten years ago. We decided to move because no matter how much we love the weather, the people, and (obviously) the food in Korea, we love each other more and the community around us wasn’t forgiving to two men living together and starting a small family of their own. Seungyoon had to cut ties with his parents as they highly disapprove us doing such. It was painful and the road was full of tears, but looking at how strong and beautiful Yuri grew up to be like and how Hiro’s innocence and curiosity fuel his days, they were all worth it.

The commute that day wasn’t too bad and work was just so-so. I’m living a nine-to-five as a forensic accountant (a.k.a. the cool part of accounting) in a mid-sized accounting firm. The work hours can be strenuous at the end of every quarter and at the end of the financial year, but at least I’m no longer at the bottom of the food chain after getting promoted to a supervisory role two years ago.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have basketball games with my colleagues where afterwards I’d buy Hiro’s favorite fishcakes and inari sushi in the stall nearby. On Wednesdays and Fridays, after finishing work, I go and pick Yuri up from her music classes and we would cheat Pap Seungyoon’s rule of no ice cream on weekdays by going to Nero’s. On weekends, we take care of our plants and go to museums. On Mondays, the longest and most boring day of the week, Pop Mino needs an energy boost and thus the night is reserved for Pop and Pap’s date night.

“I’m home!”

“Poppa! You’re a bit late today!” Hiro ran to my direction and hugged my thighs – he’s still a cute, petite little boy.

“Wow, Hiro. Have you gone taller and heavier?” I swear lifting him up with one arm wasn’t so much of an exercise before.

“Of course! We ate mashed potatoes at school and Diana said at school that mashed potatoes are made partially from milk, and milk makes you tall. Potato makes you energized because they give you energy. We also ate fish and fish makes you smart! What did you eat for lunch, Pop?”

“I also ate potatoes! The fried one, however. You’re healthier than me!”

“Of course! I also watched Thomas and Friends today!”

“You seem like you have an excellent day, Hiro. Now, give me a kiss. I have to give this to Pap first and let’s play after, okay?” I brought him to the TV room and he nicely sat next to Yuri who’s watching a National Geographic Kids feature on migrations.

“Happy date night!” We decided earlier today that it was not an ideal time for a dine-out, so we’re dining in for our date night. Kissing Seungyoon’s cheeks are akin to kissing a mochi or steamed buns – they’re smooth, bouncy, and feel nice. While kissing those fluffy cheeks, I handed over his usual vanilla latte. To my surprise, he didn’t enthusiastically grab the cup – instead, he just stayed frozen solid in his seat.

“Seungyoon? Is everything alright?”

“Oh, hey! No, of course, everything is alright. Sorry, I just spaced out just now. Thanks a lot Poppa for the latte. You know me best. Let me make you your hot chocolate.” He moved to the kitchenette and started mixing the chocolate powder.

“Did something happen at work?” munching the apple laid down on the tabletop, I followed him to the kitchenette.

“No, nothing. I was just spacing out. It’s already 8 PM anyways, and you know how easily I fall asleep.”

“If you say so.”

Returning to the tabletop, I noticed Seungyoon’s phone was unlocked, showing his home screen which is a selfie of the four of us at the park nearby. We were wearing matching t-shirts. Knowing how lazy of a man he is, it didn’t come as a surprise for me for him to not even bother to lock his phone-

“Here’s your chocolate! Complete with some biscuits.”

“Seungyoon, who was this?”

“Hm? What are you talking about?”

“This +82 number in your call log. Who was this?”

“Why did you open my phone?” He abruptly took his phone away from my hand.

“It was there, unlocked, open. Who was this?”

“Nothing, and let’s not discuss about this again. I’m going to watch TV with the kids.”

When we moved here, there were just a very limited amount of friends we still keep in contact with: Nam Taehyun – Seungyoon’s bandmate from high school; Kim Jinwoo, his university flatmate; my best friends Jihoon and Hyuntae; my family, and that’s it. There were unpleasant rumors about us moving to the States and vile comments from people around us, so we decided that it’s best for our emotional state to start a clean sheet and forget whatever we had in Korea. These people we are still connected to are saved in our mobile phones’ contact – which makes this unknown number so questionable.

When I arrived at the TV room, my plan to ask questions to Seungyoon immediately got canceled for what’s in front of me was a lovely view of Seungyoon explaining to Yuri and Hiro about the migration of whales and wildebeest, complete with an uncanny imitation of their sounds. Seungyoon is as lovely as you can expect – not only that he’s very attentive, but the sheer amount of time and effort he would gladly give to please and care for you is just unbelievable. Just one percent of what Seungyoon gives to the people he loves is enough compassion and love to last a lifetime. I am a lucky man.

There was a commotion outside, so I went to check what was happening. It was a moving truck, with the movers ready to move out the boxes and sofas and TVs from the truck. The lovely Wilkinson family moved to Houston as Cedric got a new job offer in the booming shale oil industry. Yuri and Hiro were very sad to see them leave, especially since Hannah has an extensive collection of Barbie dolls and Amelia has a lot of science books that Hiro loved to read.  
Our new neighbor just parked his car in front of the truck and got out from the car. Holy shit, it’s-

“JUNMYEON!”

The new neighbor – Kim Junmyeon, my best friend, my comrade, my loyal companion – and the girl that stood next to him got shocked at the sudden shouting and turned their direction to me.

“Mino? Oh wow! What are the chances of us being neighbors! Long time no see, man!” Junmyeon ran towards me and we shared a laugh, followed by a quick hug.

“To be exact thirty eight years,” I whispered to him, “as I came to your funeral the last time. The eulogy Sehun wrote you was highly moving. He was very heartbroken, I’m very sorry for that. I thought you should know.”

“Ah, is that so? That’s lovely. I haven’t met him in this life.”

Junmyeon is a Recaller, just like me. We would meet in every lifetime – and thus he’s one of my best friends. He’s truly a sunshine: the assurance of him being somewhere in this life calmed me, and when you meet him, you get a jolt of positivity from his optimism. Except for the times that he decided to be an ass. Which is quite frequent.

“So how are you? Just moved here? What do you do? How old are you?”

“I’m doing fine! Turning thirty this year. I just moved from San Francisco! I used to work in Silicon Valley for a tech startup, but I decided to quit and start a new company of my own. I find Silicon Valley a bit too saturated as startups literally pop up every two days or so there. So I moved here! Living cost isn’t too bad in Koreatown, and market is huge in LA. So here I am! What about you?”

Oh, and one more thing: you don’t get to win from Junmyeon a lot in terms of successes. I’ve accepted it.

“I’m a forensic accountant. Happily married with two beautiful kids. Husband runs a Korean grocery store down the block – which, by the way, you should buy all your stuffs in. Moved here from Seoul to enjoy a peaceful life with him about ten years ago. I could use a pay raise, but I’m doing fine!”

“Ah, you and your love life. Lucky man, you are.”

“I’m almost forty and I can see that you’re definitely far better off than me. Who are we kidding here?”

“Money can only get you so much. Love – that’s a different thing altogether. Love opens infinite opportunities. You’re the richer man here.”  
It rings some truth in it – with Seungyoon I feel like I could do anything. He’s my source of power and my home.

“Junmyeon? I think the movers need your help.” The girl that was standing next to Junmyeon earlier came to us. She had beautiful green eyes and brunette hair.

“Ah, yes. Shannon, meet Mino, my childhood friend. Mino, this is Shannon, my girlfriend. Who knows we’ll end up being neighbors, huh?”

“Nice to meet you, Shannon. Welcome to the neighborhood! It’s lovely, here. You’ll like it.”

“Catch you later, Mino!” and with that Junmyeon and Shannon walked to their new home.

Returning to my home, I saw that Seungyoon had taken the kids to their rooms as the TV room is now empty and the whole first floor quiet. I walked to my room and with the quietness of the floor, the whole unknown number business came back into mind and I went restless.

Ten minutes later, Seungyoon entered our room. “The kids are asleep. They were very fascinated by the whole migration thing. Perhaps we can take them to the Natural History Museum again this weekend.”

“Of course. You know best.”

He looked tired and weary – it saddens me so to see him like that. He always takes pride in his positivity and seeing him like this is like seeing an entirely different person.

I sat on my side of the bed, finishing the book Freakonomics for the umpteenth time. Seungyoon changed to his pajama and joined me, reading his novels. We got swallowed in silence before he broke it by saying,

“It was my Dad.”

“The unknown number?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?” at this point I’ve closed my book and turned my face to him. This is something I need to be fully concentrating on and I need to be the bigger man Seungyoon can rely on.

“Nothing much. He just said that we haven’t met for so long and he wanted to see me. My mom also said the same thing on the call.”

“Oh. I see. How did you respond?”

“Mumbles… I don’t know it was blurry.”

“Come here.” I hugged him tightly and patted his back to calm him down. “It’s all going to be fine. No need to worry-”

Breaking our embrace, he suddenly responded, “you don’t know whether it will be fine. Your parents call you regularly, your sister chats with you on a daily basis. Your parents didn’t disown you when you came out to them. You don’t know.”

It’s true. I don’t. Tears started to roll down his cheeks and it truly broke my heart. I wish I could say otherwise.

“It’s true. I don’t know and I probably would never know.” I put my hands on his shoulder, directly gazing at his eyes. “But you must know, whatever it is, whatever you do and whatever you feel, I will always be next to you, supporting your every decision. I am here for you.”

He looked down, the tears dropped to our bed sheet.

“I’ve always wanted to tell my mom how smart Yuri has become. How adorable Hiro is. How Mrs. Choi who lives next door always cooks her stew with sweet soy sauce instead of gochujang. I’ve always wanted to tell her so much, but I couldn’t. I wanted to tell my dad how you got promoted and how comfortable our house is, but I couldn’t. They don’t know anything about me – all they know is Kang Seungyoon from ten years ago.”

“Seungyoon, I-”

“Am I even still their son? Calling them mom and dad even sounds strange to my ears.”

I choose to stay silent for I know my words won’t reach him and would rather calm him down with light touches on his face and hands.

“A lot has happened in ten years. They didn’t even bother calling when my grandmother passed away, only knowing it months later when someone here in Koreatown knew my cousin and told me. I don’t know what could have triggered them.”

We shared two minutes of uncomfortable silences.

“It pained me to hear their voice, you know? At first I was shocked and angered, but do you know what disappointed me the most? The fact that I _actually_ miss them. That I actually want to be in my mother’s embrace. That I actually want to share a laugh and a can of beer with my father. I hate how I miss them.”

“Seungyoon, firstly I’m very, very sorry. You’re right, I don’t know how it feels to be you and I don’t know your pain. However, please remember that your pain is my pain, too. It pains me how I am not able to share your pain. It pains me how you have to go under such things. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do anything.”

He directed his gaze towards me.

“Seungyoon, I’ve said this before and I will say it again now, tomorrow, and the days after: whatever you do, I will always be by your side and support you. We’ve been through so much together, and I’m certain we will pass this and whatever the future has for us.”

He gave a faint smile – see my point on how he always takes the extra miles to smile and make you happy?

“Mino, I’m sorry that you have to be dragged to all this. I hope you don’t regret this life full of patches with me.”

“Kang Seungyoon, never have I, and never will I regret sharing my life with you. And you don’t have to apologize. I love you for who you are, for whatever excess baggage you bring with you, for whatever problems you have and you might have in the future. I don’t handpick the qualities that I love from you – I love you whole.”

We looked at each other’s eyes for what seems like an eternity, before moving to a heartwarming hug. That hug, that moment, Seungyoon and I shouted to the world: come whatever may, for we are ready to face you with valor, together.

_\---_  
_\--_  
_-_

 

I’ve always hated the administrative work of copying, printing, and binding official documents. It’s a painstakingly inefficient job with little chance of breakthrough innovation as you have to wait for the 500-page document to get printed before you can do anything about it. These middle-aged politicians are too lazy to learn how to productively use an iPad aside from playing Cut the Rope and Angry Birds (for crying out loud, this is 2016) during Assembly sessions.

“Hey, Song Mino. Congressman Kang sent this for you,” Vernon said. I pity the guy for being too cute – the National Assembly is a place with no mercy if you’re a cute intern. The work will keep coming in because these politicians remember you, but you’re too cute to be taken seriously. Eventually the kind of works you will receive are a) making coffees; b) passing memos to people; c) welcoming and keeping the wives and kids entertained as the dads still have some work to do. Cute guys like him would never get to edit, moreover draft, a bill.

“Thanks, Vernon. How many copies does he need?”

“Just one, I think. He needs it before the Socha meeting this afternoon, so I think you have to make it a priority. Now if you can excuse me I have five coffees to deliver. Lunch together, later?” You have to give this guy an award for his ability to balance five coffees, two copies of the draft bills and a memo, all while dashing swiftly and still maintaining a positive outlook of his career.

Unlike Vernon, I’m not an intern to the floor and shared by fifty congressmen. I am attached and report to one congressman, giving me more exposure to the actual policy-making – and actual politics – behind the many copying jobs. Congressman Kang, my boss, is a young representative from Daegu and is affiliated to the government party, the Socha. He is a man with ambitions. Beside the occasional printing and binding, I also aid him with crafting negotiation briefings. Once I do my job well enough, I will be appointed permanent staff and my own political journey would begin.

_Beep beep._ A text message arrived:

                _Meet at usual place 9 pm. Room # is first meeting._

Here we go.

_\--_

The elevator chimed “eleventh floor” and I stepped out, looking for room #1112 – December eleventh. He would often change the date: my birthday, his birthday, our first meeting date, the birthday of the president, the premiere date of a movie, et cetera. Once I almost knocked and entered the wrong room because I wasn’t sure what date the group Winner’s anniversary is (Google provided three different dates, I was so confused).

I knocked the door three times each with an interval of one second as per our agreement and waited. I heard footsteps closing in and about five seconds later, the door opened and Congressman Lee stood uprightly on the center.

“Hi. Come in.”

“Hi, good evening, congressman.”

“Scotch? Bourbon? Beer?” he said, striding across the room. This boutique hotel only offers one type of room which is as big as other hotel’s suite – explaining why the Congressman chose this specific hotel for our rendezvous. He doesn’t have to worry about landing in a mediocre deluxe room, he will always be served in a spacious room with a minibar that isn’t just some packs of sad salted peanuts and diet cokes, but an actual bar with an array of alcoholic drinks.  
“I can do a glass of bourbon, sir. How about you? I’ll have it ready. Please, just sit down.”

“Scotch, please. Thank you, Mino.”

In the business of politics, one _judges_ the book by its cover. Appearance matters. This is among the first lessons the Congressman has taught me. _Dress to impress, dress to success,_ he said. At 35 years young, his good looks and poise charmed younger voters, identifying with him more than with the commonly middle-aged congressmen. It’s not only how he looks, but also how he brings about himself. He speaks very eloquently with a dignified articulation. They are not over the top, nor are they superficial and forced. Truly a man fit for the job of persuasion, negotiation, and sometimes, deception.

“Thank you.  Now, sit here and let’s talk. How have you been, Mino?”

“I’m good, sir, thank you for asking. Still a lot of room for learning. Congressman Kang has been quite occupied lately with drafting the sanitation bill, and as always, I’m providing him support.”

“I see. What kind of support are you providing him?” I can sense a hint of suggestiveness in that last rhetorical question.

“Sir, as you know, it is nothing like the support I’ve provided for you the past four months,” I shyly sipped my bourbon and smirked. I know he’s weakest to my smirk.

In sudden movements, he brought himself closer to my direction, our face just centimeters apart, his breaths reek of scotch, and his gaze piercing my shy eyes. I can hear his steady and calm breaths.

“Now, now, you wouldn’t want to provide such support to other men, would you?”

No matter how hard I try to keep my composure, my pulse just went erratic and my breathing fast. His right arm, covered in sleek, black Armani suit, firmly gripping the cream-colored sofa and his long legs crossed. His face kept closing into mine, and as the tip of our noses nearly brushed, he slowly tilted his head and slightly parted his lips. I started closing my eyes when he abruptly stood up.

“Well, a meal is never satisfying without a plate of appetizer before the mains. Now, tell me, Mino, is Kang Seungyoon running for Speakership?” he said as he opened his blazer and placed it in the other sofa. He restlessly walked across the room, rolling his sleeves and putting his hand inside his pockets. He’s a manipulative jerk like this sometimes, cockblocking his own moves.

“Yes, sir, he’s aiming for the Speakership in the Assembly. He has advanced his talks with a lot of committee leaders in the Socha party, and he’s scheduled to meet the smaller Liberal party and independent congressmen. With your Maega party, however, I’m not so sure what his plans are, sir.”

Although I’ve been with the Congressman for well over four months, I am still keeping my honorifics – at his request. Such honorifics create a power play between us, asserting his dominance and ensuring my obedience.

“Interesting. Do you think he’ll succeed?”

“Truthfully sir, I think he will. With all due respect to your party, the Socha party is the majority, if the party agrees to vote for him, he will secure the Speaker position. Plus, his political capital is strengthening with the progress of the sanitation bill he’s leading.”

“Well that’s bad news for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, I believe so.”

“Then I have to ensure he’s not receiving those votes to be a Speaker myself, don’t I?”

“Yes, sir, that is correct.”

“Now, I would need support for that. Your support. Can I count you on that?”

“Sir, as I’ve demonstrated the past four months, you certainly can, without a shadow of a doubt.”

“Attaboy.”

He strode across the room and sat down on the armchair of the sofa adjacent to mine. Crossing his legs and resting his left arm on his thighs he said, “Now, shall we move to mains?”

\--

“Mino, I can’t stress enough the importance of this meeting. If he can state his public support to the bill, we will have more leverage in pressing other people in the Assembly to vote in favor for the bill. Timing is crucial. I need that support. Do whatever you can to persuade his team.”

“Yes, Congressman Kang. I have been in contact with his team. They seem to have no objection so far. I can assure you this meeting will run smoothly.” How could it not, when the person we’re meeting is Kim Junmyeon, a loyal friend over a hundred lifetimes. Junmyeon seems to be winning in this lifetime again, as he is now the CEO of the second biggest water utilities company in South Korea. In the lifetime before, that startup company of his was highly successful, too. How unfair.

“It better be. It’s only two months away to Speakership voting. Take any measure necessary, even if it has to cost us some under the table deals.”

“Yes, sir. I will.”

We arrived at the glass skyscraper, and were escorted to the top floor where Junmyeon and his staffs were already waiting in the boardroom.

“Congressman! Welcome! We finally meet again after, how long was it? Six months? Always nice to see you. Please, have a seat,” Junmyeon warmly greeted us in his grey suit and still a perfect smile.

“CEO Kim, it’s always my pleasure. This is my team, Song Mino, Shin Jiwon, and Ha Minkyung. They will assist your team if they require any clarifications or questions.” Congressman Kang ordered us to sit near Junmyeon’s team, in case he and Junmyeon need to have a private session. We all shook hands, and when it’s my turn to shook Junmyeon’s, I flashed a large smile and shook his hand quite more strongly than the others’.

The meeting introduction and formalities went for about ten minutes, and afterwards the Congressman and Junmyeon went into separate room. Faced with his team of three, we explored their thoughts and refuted their concerns. It all seemed to be working out fine. Their company would benefit from our sanitation bill as it requires expansion and upgrades of current water treatment facilities resulting in more investment and higher profit for their side. Their only request is for the bill to allow direct appointment of the contractor – in practice, this means that they are implying that they would want to be appointed by the government, enabling them to outcompete their main rival and rise to be Korea’s biggest water company. Not necessarily a clean deal, but what is politics without some under the table agreements.

Forty five minutes later, the Congressman and Junmyeon came back to the boardroom and we wrapped up with another ten minutes of formalities and conclusions. We all laughed and smiled (such a fake façade, I know) like all is well.

“CEO Kim, I must say this meeting has been very fruitful and I believe with your support, this sanitation bill will be successful. Together, we will bring a better future for the people of South Korea. No longer will they live with disparity in public sanitation across regions – and it will be all thanks to you and your continuous effort to improve the country. The country owes a great deal for your commitments.”

“Congressman, when you have the calling for public service, there is no such thing as owing me a great deal. It is all under the spirit for a better country. Thank you for making the time to come.”

All of us proceeded to another round of hand-shaking and thank yous. As I approached Junmyeon for goodbye greetings, I lowered my voice and hushed to him, “hey, Junmyeon. A CEO, huh? Not bad at all. You seem to be winning in lives!”

“Excuse me?” he gave a puzzled look and raised his eyebrows.

“Come on, drop the rigidity. It’s me, Mino!” I laughed while lightly tapping his arm.

“Excuse me, Mister Song, but I believe I had never met you before – and this is getting a bit uncomfortable,” his puzzled look turned into annoyance and he withdrew his hands from mine.

“How can you forget, man! We fought in the Korean War? Shared a room in the American boarding school? Climbed the Kilimanjaro?” if he’s pulling a prank on me, it’s not funny because by this time I can see some gazes from my team and I think, Congressman Kang is looking at us bewilderedly.

“Mister Song, it’s CEO Kim for you – and I certainly don’t recall any of those things with you as I believe you mistook me for someone else. Now if you can excuse me, I have calls to attend to.” He spoke with such coldness in his last sentences that I am starting to believe he really doesn’t recognize me.

“Mino! Come, quick!” Congressman Kang firmly called me from the other end of the table, his voice stern.

Fazed by my bizarre encounter with Junmyeon – or, CEO Kim for now – my mind went blank as we rode the elevator and waited for the car to pick us up. Kim and I have gone through so much together. Even though we were not the best of friends in some lives, but knowing that he’s somewhere in this world, feeling the same experience as I, calmed me.

“What on earth were you thinking earlier? It was a good meeting until you decided to pull that stupid shit at the end of the meeting. Did you forget how I said this is the single most important meeting before the voting on the bill and voting on the Speakership? I simply _cannot_ tolerate your hullabaloo!” served me right, Congressman Kang shouted at me inside the car ride back to the Assembly.

“Yes, sir, I am truly sorry-”

“And how do you think _truly sorry sir_ would help me secure the support? If tomorrow in his live TV interview he didn’t state his support for the bill, you know who’s at fault and you know whose political career ends.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

\--

I thought my heart is going to burst while I impatiently wait for the TV interview to be broadcasted.  I decided to sleep my worries in, with hope they will be gone the day after. It didn’t. I am still at loss how Kim didn’t recognize me – I know his gazes, and yesterday’s was his honest one. This leads to the question: what if one day, you suddenly lost the ability to recall your past lives? What if, one day, _you forget?_

To my content, Kim publicly stated his support for the sanitation bill and spoke greatly about how the bill will help the improvement of the country. The whole team cheered and sighed in relief as this would bring the bill closer to approval.

My phone beeped and a text message arrived:  
                _Not impressed. I thought the support was on me?_

As if Kim wasn’t enough trouble for a day, now I’m faced with two equally dangerous paths: [regain Congressman Kang’s trust and avoid his deliberate political annihilation of me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166348), or [provide unwavering support for Congressman Lee and ruin the bill’s approval lest he launches his _own_ attack on my political career _and_ personal life](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7945909/chapters/18166351);. This time, I’m taking the time to ponder and think deeply of what moves I shall take – for this could be my last chance to be with any of the two.

\--


	4. iii.1

< _As if Kim wasn’t enough trouble for a day, now I’m faced with two equally dangerous paths: regain Congressman Kang’s trust and avoid his deliberate political annihilation of me..._ >

The night after the broadcast, Congressman Kang instructed us to convene a meeting of his special staffs for the next day. I felt uneasy from fear that I lost his trust entirely _and_ from Congressman Lee’s mild threat. I need to find a way to balance the two or get rid of one – and I need it _fast._

Congressman Kang has been very helpful to me – if not through him, I wouldn’t get the references or exposure that have landed me permanent job offers from various consulting firms and other government institutions. I got the internship from the Congressman through a daring cover letter: an essay criticizing a speech and draft policy he presented in Daegu and what points he can improve from his policy. Enclosed with the letter is my contact address and within a day, I received calls from Jiwon that requested me to come to the Assembly that very same day. The Congressman waited for me in his room, interviewed and interrogated me, and by the end of the day, I received an internship offer for six months in his office.

Within three months I could tell that he admired my work and saw that I have the potential to be a rising star. He took me under his care and prepared me well to be his protégé – so if you’re wondering how a lowly intern can be invited to meetings of such strategic importance, it’s because I’m not just your normal copy-machine intern. My “internship” got extended for another six months.

Aiming to regain his trust, I drafted a follow-up plan for the sanitation bill: any potential talk show or media appearances Kim Junmyeon can appear in, any media material needs to be developed, any other public figure to engage for support, among others. It was a strenuous work done overnight.

“Okay. What update do you have for me?” the Congressman started the meeting.

“I’ve talked with the other staffs from the Socha party regarding the draft bill – after Kim’s public support, the support garnered for you and the bill skyrocketed, sir. Congratulations.” Minkyung is responsible for the relationships within the Assembly. Her network spans across parties and her inside info very much sought after by the Congressman.

“Great, thanks Minkyung. Jiwon?”

“I’ve compiled media responses and clippings after Kim’s public support for your bill and summarized it in this document,” he handed over a binder to the Congressman, “in case you need it for future engagements. I have also secured the meeting with Kim’s staffs to discuss further how the messaging would be amplified.”

“I’ll read this and comeback to you tomorrow.”

I waited for him to call my name – but he didn’t.

“If that’s all for today, you can be dismissed, and report to me your progress through email, as usual. Thank you.”

He stood up, followed by Minkyung and Jiwon. Before he can reach for the door, I caught up to him and said, “Sir, can I have a moment with you?”

He looked at me with a condescending look, and before he has the time to reply I said again, “I have a plan to discuss with you. You can listen to it first, and if it doesn’t pique your interest in the first two minutes, I will excuse myself.”

He shrugged indifferently and sat down again. Minkyung and Jiwon looked at us with a puzzled look on their face, but the Congressman cued them to get out of the room.

He let out a long sigh and said, “So?”

“First and foremost, I’d like to apologize for the last time we were at KoWater office. I showed disrespect to CEO Kim and I can assure you it won’t happen again – not with him, or anyone else that might potentially jeopardize your plan.”

Pause.

“With that being said I’d like to dive in the details directly – KoWater’s public support for our sanitation bill brings a lot of positive responses for the bill. Now with the upside and supportive environment we’re having, we need to take and maintain this conducive environment until the voting for the bill. For that, I’ve drafted a follow-up and stakeholder engagement plan for you to review. It includes potential spokesperson, public figures, draft messages. You can review it first and gave any feedback you deem necessary, sir.”

He took the document from my hand and studied it for three minutes.

“This is good work. Welcome back. Keep up the good work and the spirit. We need it. I’ll get back to you with revisions and feedbacks tomorrow,” he said as he stood up from his chair and pat me on the back.

“Thank you, sir. It means a lot to me. And, sir? One last thing…”

I’m so very much going to regret this, but as he showed me again and again his kindness and care for me, I thought I couldn’t do this double-agent business anymore. And I see this as the only way out from the conflict.

“After the revision of the plan, I think I would like to resign from this work.”

He stopped dead on his track and looked at me with bewilderment.

“ _Resigning?_ ”

“Yes, sir, you’ve heard correctly. To not get you worried, I assure you it wasn’t an extortion of some sort by other parties, neither was the work offered unsatisfactory – in fact, it has been the most rewarding job I’ve had so far. I’ve been thinking a lot since the meeting with KoWater, and I think it’s best for you and the team to not have me around.”

“What are you saying? You just gave me this plan and-”

“Indeed, sir. I thought of it this way: showing CEO Kim that you don’t tolerate mistakes would boost his approval on you even more.”

“I can just not have you come along to our meetings with KoWater.”

“That can happen. But, sir, I don’t want to risk your campaign with my presence in your team. It can easily backfire as your political rivals could find out about CEO Kim’s disapproval for me and used it against you. It might be a bit farfetched, yes. But think of how we successfully forced Congressman Park to step down from his position – we did that by exploiting his staff’s incompetence and his staff’s past problem with other congressmen. That could happen to you, sir, through my incompetence.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. We still have plans to execute. I would not accept your resignation.”

“I would work on the follow-up plan together with Minkyung and Jiwon, and I would still give you ad-hoc support if needed, but I will be under the radar and not as your official intern.”

“Do you have any other motives? What triggered you so suddenly?”

“To be brutally honest with you, sir,” fingers crossed behind my back, sorry, “it’s just I can’t handle the embarrassment. I think this is the only way for me to atone for my mistakes.”

The puzzled look at his face is still imminent and I didn’t dare to look straight into his eyes.

“Fine. But make sure that Minkyung and Jiwon are fully briefed. You will be dismissed from the job starting next Monday. You have to promise us that you’ll still work under request. We’ll keep in touch.”

And with that, he hurriedly got out of the room and let the door open. If you think I’m stupid and crazy for that reckless and not well-thought of action – honestly, I fucking agree with you.

\--

Congressman Kang was elected Speaker of the Assembly three months after, and Congressman Lee elected as one of the Deputy Speakers. Being independent and unaffiliated to a politician enabled me to wash my hands off any decisions made in the Assembly – _what can I possibly do?_ is all I need to say once people start to ask for proofs and results.

I briefed Minkyung and Jiwon well, and with the supportive environment surrounding Kang, he was elected with ease. Since I’m no longer his staff, Lee wouldn’t be able to point fingers at me and blame me for my failed sabotage. But for the sake of respecting his mentoring and well, “sessions” with me, under the radar, I launched a guerilla media campaign of my own to help set the environment for Lee to be elected Deputy Speaker – sending analysis and pointing out clauses in Kang’s sanitation bill that would create a price disparity of clean water to reporters, enough space for Lee to come out and constructively criticize the bill.  
At the end of the day, revisions were made to the bill, led by Lee himself. He gained enough popularity in the floor and with the people to secure the votes he needed for the position. Lee knew it was me who leaked the questionable clauses and analysis to the reporters, but he’s still unable to forgive me for not giving him the Speaker post he wanted. Eventually, the last text he sent to me was:

                _Clean way out. Smart boy. Secrets should be kept secrets._

Finally able to distance myself from the two congressmen, I decided to go back to my hometown in Andong to take a breath and have a peace of mind to think of the real problem: forgetting.

Should this be my last, am I really spending it alone? Who should I end up with? Will it be a good parting experience? Will I still meet Seungyoon or Seunghoon in my next life – _if any?_

There are too many uncertainties I’m facing and too many questions unanswered for me to immerse in this life fully and enjoy it to the last bits. The fear of forgetting is imminent and it’s haunting me in my every steps.

As I spent the night in a traditional Bed & Breakfast in Andong, I recalled the lives I’ve gone through: how Yuri grew up to work at NASA and how Hiro grew up to be a lecturer in Paleontology, how Seunghoon and I ended up living in Tokyo shortly after he secured a permanent job in Dentsu after his Nintendo work was recognized, how Seungyoon and I ended up marrying after our rendezvous in the university library. I daresay most of the lives I’ve passed I’ve lived happily. Some of them didn’t end up well: I remembered clearly how Seungyoon once left me to pursue a career in the entertainment industry, and how Seunghoon left me for another man.

If this is my last, I’m not sure how I would want it to unravel. I know it’s very selfish and greedy of me to want the best of both worlds – but dammit, I _actually_ want the best of both worlds.

I plotted the possibility of having Seunghoon – or Congressman Lee – to accept me back in his life. I don’t know whether the things that we had was pure lust or whether there was a slightest bit of love involved, so my chances are slim.

I thought of how to reconnet with Seungyoon, Kang, the Congressman, whatever. We haven’t talked in a couple of months and I’m not sure whether my last days at his office left an impression on him. My chances are slim, too.

Looking back at my lives with Seunghoon, it has always been full of excitement and fun. We lived on a shoestring in many of them, but with him, he can make homelessness to not sound too bad. He was a happy virus and his presence ensured me that no matter how awful it’ll turn out to be like, I’d still have fun.  
With Seungyoon, it was full of care and loving. Seungyoon was able to provide assurance to me that he’s going to be there supporting me, no matter what happened. Once you’ve felt Seungyoon’s love, you would know how much it dwarfed others’.

This made me realized: it wasn’t a matter of _who._ They were equally lovely and I had an equally swell time with them. They brought me happiness and fueled me to live my days. I woke up in my next life, looking forward to the day I will be able to finally meet them and eventually love them.

It wasn’t a matter of choosing excitement over stable, caring life.

It was the fact that you have someone to share your life with – it was the capability and the capacity of loving.

With that, I realized I’ve been shutting off opportunities by distancing myself away from the two – consequently risking my life, or even the last life I can recall, in dullness as I chose _not_ to love. That explains what I did next:

Opening my phone, I wrote “ _Hello, Congressman. How have you been?”_ , sent it to Congressman Kang and Congressman Lee, and left my phone unattended.

This time, I’ll let life surprise me.  



	5. iii.2

  
< _As if Kim wasn’t enough trouble for a day, now I’m faced with two equally dangerous paths: ... provide unwavering support for Congressman Lee and ruin the bill’s approval lest he launches his own attack on my political career and personal life_ >

“I am very honored and grateful to be appointed to be Speaker of the Assembly. This appointment shows that we are able to shed our ego and personal agenda, and stand together for the best interest of the nation. Together, leaving behind our party flags, we will create a stronger voice. Together, shedding our personal interests, we will stand firmly by the side of the Korean citizens. Together, we will prevail. Thank you.”

Congressman Lee makes an otherwise cheesy speech tolerable by his sheer charisma and posture. He breaks record as the youngest Speaker of the Assembly – moreover coming from the opposition party. The past months have been showcases of crazy political maneuvering, and the Congressman has once again showed his capability.

I must say I’m swoon over and over again.

The first nights after Kim’s public support of the sanitation bill were messy. Congressman Lee didn’t return my calls or texts. I had to go the dangerous path of exchanging greetings in the Assembly hall and slipped memos in his briefing documents to grab his attention and finally called me to the boutique hotel.

“Are you disobeying me? I have reiterated that the _only_ thing I do not want you to do is to publicly show that you know me. These memos and greetings need to stop. What would people think if they see Congressman Kang’s prized intern rubbing shoulders with the opposition’s lead?” the Cohiba cigar smoke heavy in the room. The Congressman never smoked cigarette since his university days – he wants only the finest for special occasions and he does not settle for anything less than the famed Cuban cigar.

“I humbly apologize for my foolish actions, Sir. But how else would I get you to respond to me?”

“We agreed early on that I _control_ this relationship. You _will_ obey me. And you disappointed me.”

“I apologized and it will not happen again, Sir. You, out of all people, would know how tricky my position is. I need to strike balance between supporting and destroying Kang.”

“I see all supporting and no destroying.”

The Congressman stood up from his sofa and grabbed his blazer, ready to walk out of the room. I couldn’t afford losing his trust – and alas, on top of all my political exchanges and agreements with him, I actually, _honestly,_ enjoy his company.

“Give me a week.”

My sudden stern stance must have piqued his interest for he stopped on his track and inhaled his Cohiba once more.

“Give me a week and I will show you how valuable it is for you to keep me by your side. I will show you what I am truly capable of.”

By this time I’ve stood up from my seat and clenched my fist. My gaze was fixated on his back.

“I will not disappoint you. I can assure you.”

He turned his head and said, “one week. Surprise me. Come with results and this spirit, and you shall be rewarded.”

I launched my own political maneuvering the first three days: flirting with the hot 32-years old staffer in the Socha party secretariat was the easy task. The hard task is to fake my interest in her stories and be passionate on bed. I had to imagine the Congressman just to get it over with. It was satisfactory on her part, I must say, for she casually handed me a copy of the confidential Socha roadmap containing the bills the Party will push for the next year and their sponsors. Not a document you would happily give to an opposition party.

I did a background check and compiled the key insights to their sponsors and point out their weak points – corruption scandals, adultery, frequented prostitution spots, past political experience, and insights on internal party politics – as well as the business sponsors backing the bill – their tax evasion scandals, bribery, regulatory violations. On top of this, I also gave an equally detailed document of scandals and potential reputational damaging rumors on Kim’s company, the pivotal party on the sanitary bill.

I stayed up for two full nights, surviving on take-away kimbabs and fishcakes. If not for the short meeting with Kim Junmyeon, I would not dare to launch such dedicated actions. If Junmyeon could forget, so could I, right? If this is my last lifetime in which I can remember who Seunghoon has always been during all these lives, I want to make it count. I want to atone for my mistakes.

After a week of terror, I booked a room in the hotel under my own account, printed a copy of the comprehensive document and sent a text to the Congressman:

                _Usual place. # is the date where you will be appointed speaker._

I usually enjoy the view from this hotel, where the blinding night lights of Seoul compensate the shimmering night stars they devour. Back in my small hometown of Andong where light pollution is non-existent and fireflies aplenty, the neighborhood kids’ favorite activity has always been stargazing. We grew up identifying Orion’s belt and the Big Dipper – as easy as Seoulites identifying the lights of Hongdae and Myeongdong.

There were three abrupt knocks on the door – unlike my one-second interval knocks – and I found myself walking towards the door. I stopped midway to check my appearance on the mirror in the hallway: I dropped my light blue shirt and navy tie to a black suit with white shirt, boosting my confidence and showing my seriousness that I will surely need in the coming meeting.

“What do you have?” he said nonchalantly as he stormed inside the room exactly after I opened the door. He seems to have no time to spare for chit-chats.  
I closed and locked the door for security reasons and took the files I’ve printed from my briefcase. I threw the thick document to the table and it beautifully slid and stopped right in front of him. I reckon a little bit of intimidation would appeal to him. My neck is on the line anyway so might as well going the more dangerous path.

“What is this?” he said as he reached for the document.

“Read it. Imagine playing a game of chess where you know with one-hundred per cent certainty what your opponent’s next moves are, which hand he’s going to move the pawn with, and what his stress points are. With that document, I’m giving you that game of chess – the chessboard, the opponent, and eventually, the victory.”

He changed his position to sitting upright, his legs not crossed anymore now, and his stiff shoulders more relaxed. “Wow. How can I be sure that this isn’t just a bedtime story you just wrote yesterday night? How can you prove this true?”

“Tomorrow. 7 PM talk show program in KBS. Kim Junmyeon will be interviewed for a featurette on good leadership. He will speak and send implicit messages in favor of the sanitation bill. He will showcase his company’s social activities in the rural regions and how their lives have been improved by the company. It will be full of positivity and praises for his company and buy people’s emotions towards the sanitation bill and consequently the bill will pass with ease – _except_ if someone managed to leak their questionable tax returns before the show. In that scenario, the news will spread like wildfire and people won’t have sympathy on him. Potentially damaging Junmyeon’s credibility once and for all. Kang would want to disassociate himself with him, and Junmyeon would be very unhappy with that.”

He read the few last pages on Junmyeon’s company profile and looked at me with puzzled look, “Are you saying you’re pushing for a black campaign on Kang and his supporters?”

“I’m not saying anything about black campaign – I’m just saying that people need to know the facts. That’s all.”

“How can we ensure that this won’t backfire? Will this be effective?”

“In the last few pages there are some reporters that have been turned down and in some cases, extorted, by Kang’s camp. They’ll gladly pick this news. Scandal and controversy bring good publicity and good cash for media. Just ask your men to contact one that you are most comfortable with, and watch your plans materialize into Kang’s nightmare tomorrow. You have to see it to believe it, right?” I ended my pitch with a sip of whiskey I’ve poured into one of the glasses at the bar. The Congressman seemed to be bought by the idea, but he’s carefully weighing his risks as black campaigns very easily backfire.  
The beauty of this plan is that Congressman Kang would see this whole scandal as force majeure and it would be hard for him to point fingers and trace it back at me – corruption and tax evasion aren’t new news, they’re just a time bomb waiting to explode. Finding the source of this issue would be as tedious as finding a needle in a haystack.

“I’ll think about it.”

“My private phone is turned on 24/7 if you ever need anything.”

The Congressman turned his gaze on me for one last time, nodded lightly, and stormed out of the room. A light nod is as much of a _well done_ I can ever expect from him. With him buying the idea, I needed to carefully observe how the issues develop from afar. As much as I respect Junmyeon – or CEO Kim, or whatever – all these times, the fact that he forgot about his whole lives bugged me so. It’s as if he’s not the person I’ve known my entire lives and it shattered my beliefs in how this whole thing works. I have to ensure that I aced this one in case this is my last.

The next day, the headline of Korea’s second most widely circulated newspaper featured the KoWater financial statements and odd tax calculations. The headline read: _“Did KoWater’s official tax returns go down the drain?”_ and it was ingenious. Online media picked it up soon and so did TV channels. And by the time I was about to eat my croque-monsieur for lunch at the Assembly, everyone are talking about it.

“Hey, have you read the spread on KoWater’s tax evasion scandal?” Minkyung asked. “It’s bad, bad news for the Congressman. Bad press and bad timing.”  
I just shrugged indifferently at her comment and proceeded to eat my sandwich, grateful that she would stand by me and said we had lunch together the day the issue snowballed, making a strong alibi in my favor. The broadcast that evening got cancelled, Congressman Kang went into private meetings where his special staffs aren’t even allowed to come, and his staffs and interns (cue: me) sat locked in his meeting room, waiting for orders at his disposal.

Let’s just say it all went downhill from there on. The Congressman kept a distance with KoWater for fear the bad press will affect him too. KoWater got heavily scrutinized for two weeks after the news first broke. Even when the KoWater scandal hasn’t subsided, the media once again picked up bribery scandal involving officials from the Socha party – giving more powerful jabs to Congressman Kang’s fight for Speakership. As if the combination of the two isn’t bad enough, the Maega party – _not_ led by yours truly, Congressman Lee, as he needs to be distanced from controversies – has succeeded in pointing out clauses in the sanitation bill that will in effect make the citizens in urban area pay more for access to clean water. The people push for revisions to the draft bill and had turned to the opposition party to lead such revisions. And, _boom_ , the revision is led by the voice of hope and youth, yours truly, Congressman Lee.  
Although I hoped that the Congressman’s victory would relieve me – the “rewarding” nights after the the passing of the bill were, as it’s fittingly called, _very_ rewarding – it didn’t make me so much at ease. There are too many uncertainties I’m facing and too many questions unanswered for me to immerse in this life fully and enjoy it to the last bits. The fear of forgetting is imminent and it’s haunting me in my every steps.

Tonight I decided I want to distance myself away from the dirty politics, the congressmen, and their prized intern/political pawn/lust fulfiller. Craving for tranquility for a calmer state of mind, I took the train to Andong and spent the night there.

Congressman Lee – or, fuck it, Seunghoon – texted several times asking where I am. I haven’t replied to his texts, and I don’t plan to. It’s not in his nature to beg me for information because normally I would show up like his puppy on call at his disposal. He’s having a reception for his appointment as Speaker of the Assembly, but I guess he’s up for some late night heat.

Away from the two Congressmen, I reflected back at this life and the lives before it. Seunghoon – as a graphic designer, a congressman, a travel blogger, a banker, a prince, a whatever – has always played an important role in my life. Sometimes we didn’t end up together, sometimes he disappointed me and likewise I disappointed him. But whatever end game I have with him, he always plays a pivotal role in it.

If I choose to be with Seunghoon now, will I remember him in the next life? Will life turn out to be better if I chose to be with Seungyoon? Will I ever regret living my life the way I decided it to be?

In between these thoughts, my phone vibrated. It was the Congressman. I’ve let his calls through for three times already – the fact that he called for the fourth time should be applauded and respected.

“Hello? Where are you? Why didn’t you pick up my calls and return my messages?”

The Congressman sounded out of breath and his whispering voice raspy.

“Hi, sir. Sorry, I’m out of town, and my phone was away from me.”

“Out of town? But today I got sworn for Speakership. Why are you not here?”

“Of course, Sir, I know. I was at the Assembly and you looked befitting for the post you rightfully deserve. I thought I wanted to give you time to celebrate.”

“And what makes you think I don’t want to celebrate it with you?”

I was dumbfounded and it was apparent from the long pause I gave him, for he said again, “if not because of you, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Sir, I’m flattered-”

“Come back to Seoul. Room is your birthday.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t come there today.”

“Why? Where are you?”

“It’s a… personal business, sir. I will go to the room tomorrow night. I’m very sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

And for the first time in my life, I hung up the call. He would not be pleased, but judging by how much he craves for me now, it would be tolerable. Not wanting my time to be disturbed, I turned off my phone and put it in my bag.

Hearing his voice in this turbulent time shook my ground even more. My lives with him flashed before my eyes – the happy moments, the wedding vows, late night talks, my mistakes and his. Those were really good times. I want to atone for my mistakes and my sins I accumulated for the past lives. If this is our last, I want to make it count. And I want it to be perfect, spotless.

The next day, I took the train ride back to Seoul. I arrived just in time before the agreed meeting hour. He must have missed me so for I only knocked the door once when the door opens to him standing in the middle of the hallway.

“You’re early,” he said. There is a hint of relief in his voice – I’m flattered at these small hints, but the last thing I need from him now is explicit sign of longing and love.

“Ah, yes, I thought you wouldn’t be here already, sir.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said as he led me to the usual sofa. “I wanted you to be here yesterday for the celebration of Speaker appointment. It was all because of you. You’re supposed to be the star of the show.”

“Thank you, sir. That’s too much for the both of us know if not without your poise and charms, you wouldn’t get it anyway.”

In a series of proofs that the Congressman totally went head over heels for me, he poured me a glass of pinot noir and said for the cheer, “for you.”

“For Speaker Lee.”

We drank some more afterwards and laughed at his stories. This is a side of the Congressman I don’t see often – him being carefree and true to himself. He shared how yesterday’s reception was such a snoozefest and full of ass-licking politicians who have come up to him to ask for fund allocations. This one politician even offered him an escort to get him through the lonely nights. He laughed at how these people have no clue that he’s been screwing with me.

“I mean, these people don’t notice how there is a sexy, inviting and totally able intern on the Assembly every day? They must be blind!”

The pinot noir (almost empty by now) must have gotten on him for he started to slur his words and say things he never said to me before.

“Yesterday as people congratulate me and praise my leadership skills, all I had on my mind was you and you.”

“You must have wanted to channel all the energy, didn’t you, sir?”

“No, I just felt like being with you. To say thanks.”

I felt uncomfortable and giddy for I am not in the mood for loving. I stood up and went to the window.

“I genuinely want to share the excitement with you. I’ve noticed you make a very good conversing partner. Weird, isn’t it?”

I just gave an unclear and faint mumble to his question and tried my best to avoid this topic. I moved to the bar and pretended to make a new kind of cocktail, busying myself with whatever is necessary to not reply to his words.

I was doomed when he said, “Song Mino, come. Sit next to me.”

I wasn’t able to say no so I sat next to him. His right hand holding the half empty glass of pinot noir, his left arm stretched to the back of the sofa. He turned to me once I reached the sofa and said to me with a depth of seriousness to his voice,

“I want you to know, and this is not because of the wine, that I’m thankful to have you around for the past eight months. I want you to not think of yourself as just a political pawn. You mean a lot more to me than just my rival’s intern and agent of sabotage. I genuinely treasure your presence. Thank you.”

He closed in to my direction. I anticipated for a kiss and so I parted my lips – but he didn’t go for my lips and kissed me on the cheek instead.

“Please stay. Even when you’re not in the Assembly anymore,” and a kiss on the other cheek.

“I need you,” and finally, a kiss on the lips.

When his lips touched mine, I felt a jolt down my spine, just like how he first kissed me eight months ago. Instead of happiness, however, I felt a wave of insecurity and vulnerability washed upon me. The questions came again blurring my mind, harder than how it hit me last. I remembered how much I’ve disappointed him before – when I left him for a lucrative job, when I disregarded his concerns, when I let my ego consumed him whole.

I stood up in sudden motions and breaking his soft kisses.

“I’m sorry, Seunghoon, I can’t do this.”

When I left him, he looked puzzled and confused. I dashed towards the door and took the emergency stairs to the lobby and went outside the hotel.

I don’t think I can have a perfect, spotless life with him – more accurately, I’m _afraid_ of not having a perfect, spotless life with him. I think there was too much room for mistakes, something I couldn’t afford this time. I don’t think I will be able to love him as much as I loved him in Kyoto – what if I disappoint him? What if he left me? What if his words were just empty seductions and he needed only my service for his path to the throne?

I wandered aimlessly on the streets of Seoul, choosing the darker road at every intersection and not knowing where I’ll end up in. I wonder how Seunghoon feels right now. I guess he would be very angry at me for disrespecting his confession (was it even a confession?) and leaving him when he has opened up to me.

I weighed my available options and none of them seem lucrative and secure enough for me to venture in. Trying to forget all this for a while, I resorted to my lifelong, most reliable friend: food. I entered Gwangjang Market in hope for a good Korean pancake or kimbab or rice cakes. There were lines and lines of street food vendors to choose from – yet my eyes fall on one specific vendor that looked way out of place to be there: a takoyaki booth.

I sat down in one of the empty chairs inside the takoyaki booth and asked for a portion of an octopus takoyaki. Its smell brings too much memory. Although the Gwangjang Market at night is loud with people chatting with each other and vendors trying to sell their foods to the hungry goers, I found myself traveling back to our Kyoto days, when everything seemed a to be a bit happier. I couldn’t believe how we were able to live in such low budget and shabby apartment – compared to the luxurious boutique hotel and the many zeros in our bank account, the Kyoto days seemed almost unbelievable.

Five minutes later, the cook served my octopus takoyaki. It was decent – but of course, not comparable to the one we had in Japan. Those days, we were able to love each other fully, way beyond our imperfections. We seemed to not be afraid of whatever we had in front of us.

Come to think of it – that’s how we’ve always survived in every lifetime. We cherished and appreciated them, living it to the fullest. At that time, I wasn’t bothered by the fact that I don’t know how my lives would be like next. I focused on living. I focused on loving Seunghoon. I cherished the days I was able to spend with him. After all, aren't those days when we're both imperfect and our relationships rocky turned out to be memorable and prized?

_So, why not now?_

The only difference between now and then is the fact that I didn’t purposefully shut Seunghoon out in fear of a disappointing life or failure. Life can unravel in any direction – opting to shut myself out of Seunghoon deters them from unraveling and fends off opportunities for going my direction. I realized how silly I’ve been in being afraid over things I have no control over – I don’t know whether I will still remember, alas, I don’t even know whether I will still be alive tomorrow – so might as well live today like there is no tomorrow: without regret.

With realizations clear in my mind now, I finished the last bites of my takoyaki. I gave my money to the cook and with that, I left my empty takoyaki box, just like Kyoto, and went away – back to Seunghoon, back to home.  



End file.
